


Spoils of War

by Salvasti



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon
Genre: AU, F/F, Philosophy, Pre-SilMil, Reinako
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:58:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6321379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Salvasti/pseuds/Salvasti
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU Pre-SilMil. In warfare, the spoils of war included the defeated populations, which were often sold off to the highest bidder if they were not kept as slaves. As planets fall under the might of the war machine that is Mars, what truly causes a change of heart to show there's better reasons to fight?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a co-authored story, previously posted on ff.net but pulled for a lot of reasons.

The noise was positively terrifying.

For the past two days, that was all that had been going on.  The sounds of siege against the capital was something heavy, dreadful, punctuated by explosions and guttural screams.  In retrospect, two days wasn’t really that long.  It was no big deal, after all two days was nothing in reality.  Two days anyone could withstand.  For two days, you could do anything, even something you didn’t like doing.  But that was the assumption that in two days, relief would arrive.  Support would show up.  The armies would push back the invaders and retake the things lost.  You wouldn’t have to endure the siege any longer for the fighting would stop.

That you had an army for that matter that was capable of repelling off those attacking was the key thing, making it so.  Two days was nothing, as long as you had that.  If you had that, you could withstand anything.

Assumptions though did nothing for anyone, save making you look like an ass.

The bombing and warfare had shaken all the buildings that still managed to be standing to their very core.  Perhaps the sound needed something more, an additive.  It was found in the destruction that rained in the form of materials and dust that rained from the rooftops and ceilings.  Most of the buildings she could only guess had been abandoned.  But then again, that was someone’s home.  She couldn’t rightly imagine leaving her home behind.  People may very well had stayed too.  

The palace, her home, wasn’t spared from the attacks either.  Its massive nature bore signs of cracks in the marble like a spider’s web.  Hardly built for warfare the fact that it was still standing was rather remarkable if you thought about it.

But so did the realization that withstanding two days of siege didn’t mean much.

The silence that followed, no matter who you were, was far worse than the noise.  In the silence you couldn’t help but hear everything.  The screams were the worse, so very many voices of men, women and children joining together in some sort of twisted symphony of anguish.  A rhapsody of pain.  An aria of sorrow.  She couldn’t see through the sea of ash and smoke that hung heavy in the air; all she could do was listen as the world around her was falling apart in a blaze that was hardly anything for being glorious.

The sound of metal upon metal, the dance of steel that meant fighting followed, growing closer.  Drums beat in the background; a pounding tempo that drove a headache to lance her skull.  It was further punctuated by buildings that fell, collapsing upon themselves and each other.  People once lived there with carefree lives, near peaceful lives… and they wouldn’t be any more. They were being snuffed out like a burning candle, welcoming the night.

The Martian army was on its way.

The army of her own planet had not even been able to stand against the invading forces for a week.  They had barely managed a day as it were.  Despite the desperation of it being their home and their families, their opponents were far too strong, far too organized, and far too ruthless.  The army had been reduced to just a few soldiers, a handful really if you realized the numbers.  It wasn’t like Venus had a large army, but each soldier killed drove the point home further and further of their overall ineffectiveness.  The remaining Venusian guard, perhaps a score and a half, were still determined.  They would hold the palace for as long as it was possible for a miracle that would never arrive.

Everyone would die today.  The only question and choice given to them was where that would ultimately end up being.

Her father had said his farewells only moments ago.  From his beloved wife and then to her, his daughter, he had parted, deciding that taking up his sword would buy the necessary time.  To protect them, to give them the chance of a cleaner death instead of what was offered at the hands of savages.  One last embrace he offered to her, holding her tightly for what would never be long enough.  She couldn’t rightly tell when he let go of her in silence if the tears on his cheek were his or her own.  He didn’t say anything, speaking instead with a look that spoke the volumes of his deep sorrow before his face grew hard and stern, transitioning from the face of her father back into that of the King.

Collecting his sword he withdrew it from its scabbard, leaving the ornamental sheath behind.  He didn’t pause to take one last look for it would be his downfall; it would destroy his resolve which as already shaky and unstable at best.  Out the doors he went, his other hand gripping them to draw to a close.  Even then he didn’t pause to look behind him, trusting that no matter what and any doubts, the right decision had been made.

It was her mother’s cue, rushing forward to turn the lock.  It wouldn’t hold; that was obvious.  Psychologically it was just a mercy, it was just some cop out; if the door was locked then nothing could get in.  The Martian army could never breech it, and therefore they would be safe.

* * *

A short distance away outside of the palace, a young Martian soldier took particular interest in the siege efforts.  It was notable that they weren’t engaged in fighting at the moment, given that all around them it was just a sea of weapons moving, screams, and bloodshed.  Wherever the soldier walked the frenzied sea moved with it, ensuring no one would ever manage to break that ring of steel.

With eyes of crimson that betrayed their interpretation of living flame given their coldness, the soldier looked over the devastating destruction.  Other soldiers were busy looting and pillaging, setting fire to the homes that remained standing.  In what was considered a course language they hollered and scream, inciting panic to draw out any Venusian that still remained in hiding.  Those were the foolish ones, the ones they would keep as slaves.  

The Martian soldier brushed a hand against the armor worn, glancing disinterestedly at it.  Blood dripping from gauntleted fingers.  How many exactly had been killed?  Today?  At all?  Oh countless.  Thinking wasn’t required, just killing.  The Venusians were not opponents in any regard, they were weak, plain and simple.  A glance took in the street that wound its way around buildings to the way to the palace.  A literal river of blood flowed over it, lazily making its way to destinations not important.

The Venusians may be weak, but she had a reason to be cautious.  It wouldn’t take much to slip and fall here for instance.  It wouldn’t take much to take an injury and tarnish her reputation as the Commander.  It was a good reason to remain vigilant, taking part only in the fighting if it was a worthwhile venture.  The Great Lord and Ruler of Mars had given a specific tasking; get in the palace and find the royal family.  Parting from its fellows, the figure made its way to a large, resounding crack in the palace wall.  Slipping within easily and unchallenged, it was obvious why; the Venusian guards were too busy defending the main gate to concern themselves with the notion that they were being infiltrated from the sides.

Sword at the ready, the soldier walked uncaringly down the palace halls.  Bare of guards, the decorations were scornfully regarded, a gauntleted fist absently shattered a vase that was on display, just like it sunk chiseled fingertips into a painting to leave a series of tears across the canvas.  Fucking Venusians and their art.  There wasn’t a need for art; it didn’t feed you, clothe you, much less warm you at night.  Why the fuck would anyone bother to make something so utterly useless?

Thoughts like that kept the soldier company before pausing, stepping behind a column to take account for what was ahead.  Two guards stood outside where the hall narrowed further on, their surcoats bearing the sign of the Venusian falcon along with trimmings of gold over armor.  An honor guard, perhaps.  Both were armed, swords at the ready and eyes alert.  Neither were a challenge, a single strike to each left them both laying on the ground dead, their blood pooling out under them.

“Weaklings…”  The voice was hollow and metallic, echoing within the helmet.  Distorted it could have belonged to anyone, paying the dead guards no mind to step forward, only to be stopped this time by a tall, blonde haired man with a fancy looking sword, not at all dressed for a fight.  Behind him was a pair of doors, his intent obvious to protect it with his life.

The King.  At last.  Which meant behind the doors was the rest of the royal family.  This was perfect.  Soon they would be done and could leave this backwards worthless planet.

* * *

“Found ya.”  The soldier spoke with a heavy accent, but anyone would agree that the Martians had such an unique accent anyway, rough and bordering on growls.  Despite the helmet he could pick out the soldier was female; that and the armor gave her away anyway.  Slim, it was form fitting everywhere it needed to be, presented in an array of primarily black and red.  More red than normal, a sinking sensation that said the addition was all thanks to blood.  Blood of his subjects.

Further, the emblem on her armor bore the Martian eagle, superimposed over a crown impaled by a sword.  Royalty of Mars, he knew that much right away by the crown.  The sword meant… but of course.  The Princess of Mars herself was here.

In front of him he held his sword, on the defensive.  He would wait for her to strike first, instead of foolishly rushing an individual that knew nothing but warfare.  “You’re too late.  He is not going to have them.”  It didn’t matter to him if she killed him or not, his family was safe by now.  The Martian bastard and his bitch of a daughter would not have his family.  His wife would make sure of that and he would give her the time she needed to accomplish that.

The helmet however hid the faint smile that the princess gave.

* * *

Behind the locked door, the Queen, her mother, listened with her ear pressed to the wood.  When the sounds of battle stopped, she moved in what could only be considered a frantic action.  Her mother never rushed to anything; she always moved with refinement and grace.  Whatever it was she heard on the outside must be important.

To one of the bookcases she rushed, opening a secret cabinet after moving aside books that were in the way.  Without a care they were thrown aside, revealing various bottles and glasses.  Two of such were taken, from another decanter they were filled with a clear, reddish-brown liquid.  A smaller, much smaller vial was taken, adding in drops of a transparent fluid.  Taking both glasses in hand she turned to her, holding one out.

She rolled her eyes.  Really?  “Mama, you always told me I’m not allowed to drink alcohol yet.”  The last time she had tried resulted in such a lecture, followed by restriction, followed by a lot of other things she didn’t want to remember.  Alcohol made her sick; she wasn’t sure what was worse… her parent’s disappointment or the fact she was so sick afterwards.

Her mother shook her head.  “This is no alcohol.”  The glass she forced her to accept.  “When the Martians find you, they will do horrible things to you.  This is going to protect you.”  She might need to grow up at some point in her life, but this was not how she wanted to have maturity.  Wasn’t the army going to protect them?  Why would a glass of some unknown liquid do what the army couldn’t?  But who could really stand up to the savages that was the Martian army… they gave her nightmares whenever she heard them mentioned…

She eyed the glass with hesitation, knowing she shouldn’t ask questions but… “How does it work?”

Her mother cut her off before she could get much more out, “I have no time to explain it to you now.”  She was speaking in her Queen voice.  Both of her parents had those voices, just like they had those faces.  Warily she looked at the glass as her mother continued to speak.  “Drink with me, I’ll count to three.  One.  Two,”

Intent on her own glass she missed the glass being raised, the contents swallowed.  She only caught the movement, her mother falling to the floor.  The glass slipped from her hands, landing on the floor to shatter and spill its contents without a care.  To her knees she went, hands shaking her mother, trying to vainly wake her, to get her to get up before her hands flew off of her body horrified.  She wasn’t breathing.  Not any more.  With wide eyes she looked at her mother’s form, her hand instantly going to her mouth to contain the scream that otherwise would have had an escape.  Her hand was like a clamp at that, denying the scream as she felt a surge of emotions flood her being.

* * *

She toyed with the King for as long as he kept her interest, finally growing bored.  He was good sure, more of a fight than the others she had slaughtered, but she had more important things to do than this.  With lightning precision her sword slipped in past the nature of his own guard, plunging through his chest until it exited the other side.  Raising her foot, she pressed it against his body to dislodge him from her blade.  Reaching down she wiped his blood from the steel across his tunic, looking behind her.

Two of her soldiers approached, sheathing their blades and offering her a bow.   Rising to her feet once more she gave the door a gesture with her sword.  “Break it!”

* * *

The slamming at the door drew her attention.  She cast her gaze at it, uncertain.  Her father.  He’d know what to do.  She needed to find him.  Slowly she rose to her feet, carefully treading around the shattered glasses and the discarded books.  Approaching the door she stopped a few paces from it.  It had a rhythm to it, a certain one almost, as it reverberated from the force of whatever was on the other side of it.  The hinges were holding but really for how much longer could they?

Maybe if she was fast enough…

When the pounding stopped once more, she quickly undid the lock and threw the doors open wide.  It was almost comical, if she could laugh about something like that, as two soldiers dressed not in the Venusian colors came spilling through.  Landing at her feet she wasted no time, jumping over them while her hand grabbed the side of her dress, holding it out of the way as she took off at a run.

Down the short hall she ran, looking for her father only to skid to a halt.  A Martian soldier stood over him, turning to look at her.  She didn’t care, her father… there was red all around him, like a pool.  With a sob she ran to his lifeless body, tripping over the shattered remains of a sculpture.  Her voice broke as she cried out, holding onto him dearly as though her tears could bring him back to life again.  She didn’t care that his blood was staining her dress, turning the pale yellow fabric a completely different color.  

She dared to look up, feeling eyes on her.  The Martian… his armor was drenched in blood.  He held a sword in his hand, mostly cleaned of blood but not completely.  Anger, justified and righteous, flared within her.  This monster had killed so many of her people… probably even killed her father.  Oh it was going to pay…

Her hands closed over her father’s heavy sword, lifting it up as she struggled to her feet.  She could barely keep the sword point up, her arms were shaking far too much.  But at the Martian she aimed it.  Its face was obscured by a helmet but she imagined that the features were ugly, hideous.  If it was ugly it would be so much easier to kill, it would be so much more condemned that it dared strike down such beautiful things.

Where the notion of killing came from she had no idea, but it was infused in her arms.  It gave her strength to swing wildly at the Martian, who avoided them easily.  That spurred her anger onward, trying time and again, her indignation flaring once the Martian just started to laugh.  At her.

Quicker than she could follow the Martian’s sword met her own, wrenching it out of her grasp to send her father’s sword spinning off to the side, where it landed with a clatter.  This was it… her hands didn’t even fumble as she withdrew a small dagger from inside her dress, feeling it slide along her palm as she aimed it at her breast.  All she would have to do was just push and that’d be it.  She would not be humiliated any further.

* * *

A knife.  It wasn’t even worthy to be called a dagger but she could attest to its viciousness.  A stilleto, of course.  Only something small and dainty for the Princess.  Where it was aimed however had her concerned.  The Great Lord and King of Mars wanted her alive.  Stopping instantly, she raised her other hand up, palm facing the girl in the universal gesture to calm down.  Carefully she lowered her sword, knowing that the girl was watching her like a hawk.  

To the floor she left her sword, showcasing both hands now as she rose back to her feet.  To her helmet they went, knowing full well that it distorted her voice, undoing the buckle before pulling it free.  She’d have a far better time at being understood now instead of needing to rely on gestures, certainly.  Freed, her hair spilled around her frame, as dark as the night and shining like silk.  

* * *

A woman.

She stopped dead in her tracks.  How was this even possible?  A woman, she looked around her own age.  What was she doing in this disaster?  How could she fight for them and do such horrible things?  How could a Martian be so damn beautiful?  That was just … that was just a violation of the laws of nature!

The last thought jolted her back to reality.  She hated herself for that last thought, baring her teeth she took in a deep breath.  Readying the blade to be embedded in her body she closed her eyes, missing as the other sprang forward.  Gauntleted hands fought against her own, overpowering her despite her frantic attempts otherwise.  Quickly enough she was disarmed, the blade wrenched from her hands as though her actions were for nothing at all.

* * *

She stood up, looking down at the girl before she glanced up.  The two she had sent to break down the door were back on their feet.  In either of their arms they grasped the Princess, holding her arms trapped behind her.  “Congratulations, Commander.  A pretty thing you’ve got here.  We’ll bring her to the ships.”

She nodded curtly, saying nothing as instead her crimson gaze remained transfixed on the hateful stare of the blonde being dragged away, kicking and screaming obscenities.

More Martian soldiers stormed the palace in wake of the two leaving with the ultimate spoils.  The royal family was either dead or captured.  Without the doors, the soft breeze that was present on the planet had free reign of the palace, bringing with it smoke and the scent of blood.  A glance was given to the room the Princess had burst forth from, seeing the obvious dead body of the Queen.  Nothing more needed to be done there.

Her eyes closed for a moment, drawing in a deep breath.  There was flesh burning as well.  That always had a distinct scent.

Reopening, she strode out of the palace, her work was done.

Venus had fallen.


	2. Chapter 2

There wasn’t anything here that could be considered green.  Nor was there anything here that could be considered alive.  Dust on dust upon even more dust, the reddish brown; or was it brownish red?  Soil had a habit of getting everywhere.  It clung to bodies like a second skin, it clung to surfaces no matter what they were like a second coating.  The dust was absolutely annoying, but that was the least of her concerns.

The ground beneath her sandaled feet was some combination of dust and dirt and the occasional pebble.  She hadn’t looked up much, promising herself that she wouldn’t look like some slack jawed yokel who had never seen anything before like this in her life.  Of course she hadn’t; that wasn’t the issue.  She had never truly seen anything like this before, and it took every scrap of her upbringing to not just … want to cry.

She and two others, bound at the wrists tightly, had been brought into what she guessed was the inner yard of the fucking Martian palace.  Her mother would scold her if she caught her using such language, but she wasn’t here any more to tell her to behave like a proper princess.  Nor was her father here either to remind her with just a look to mind her mother.  It wasn’t right, but she rebelled.  She rebelled by thinking of all the words she wasn’t supposed to say out loud, or at least not in earshot of her parents.

The guttural language of the fucking Martians had been going non stop since early this morning, when she had arrived.  The sun hung like some bloody red eye in the sky, casting its gaze over everything and singling out people that didn’t belong.  She didn’t belong here.  This shouldn’t be happening yet she knew it wasn’t a dream; it was far too much real but she didn’t want to acknowledge that.  She wanted her parents.  She wanted to wake up in her bed.  She wanted to go for a ride on her horse and she wanted to be pampered and treated nicely and kindly and everything else.  And instead here she was.  In fucking hell on Mars.

The inner yard looked like an arena.  Sometimes she watched the Venusian army hold contests; of course nothing life or death like the barbaric Martians did, so she had an idea of what an arena was.  Normally it was sports or other martial feats of strength, like archery or horse races, other times it was for parades and precision marching.  Leave it however to the Martians to pervert it into something more.  A market for slaves, some man with a coiled whip, dressed in blacks and two shades of red had been harking all day in his stupid Martian voice.

It was hard, watching people she knew being sold.  Most had gone off crying, making her resolve that she wouldn’t cry out.  She knew she couldn’t fight them all as much as she wanted to; she’d be lucky to get just one before she was struck down.  And it wasn’t a question for her who it would be.  All she needed was a chance though and she’d do it, she would go for it.  Her target was that Martian who violated the very laws of nature to look beautiful.  She killed her father.  She’d have her revenge for that.  

Somehow she would, anyway.  Even if it was completely far fetched.

The arena was bound and flanked by thick walls of the barbarian’s palace.  Cruel spikes decorated the top of them, under them ran the shadows and stains that spoke of blood.  From the walls ran up series of seats; the Martian enjoyment at subjugation of conquered planets required seating after all.  The sun was positively glaring, promising to leave her fair skin with a burn before much longer.  Maybe the dust would help, but she doubted she would be that lucky.  Why was she so concerned about getting a sunburn anyway?  She should be plotting her vengeance.  

The trader, a fat man really, walked around in a wide circle in the yard.  He was sweating profusely in the mid afternoon sun, his clothes were stained by it.  From a distance they looked ok … maybe, if she was willing to give barbarians that, but whenever he passed by up close, she could tell they weren’t.  He smelled, his clothes smelled, and he looked dirty.  Just like a Martian would.

“Dear Lords and Ladies, I have selected the best slaves from the previous conquests for your service.  Take a look around and convince yourself, here is no place for anything cheap!”

The trader barked and she ignored it.  Doing her best to ignore it anyway, she looked at the people milling about in their seats, not exactly near them but close enough that they could see.  People in armor; not as nice as the Martian bitch’s, but still in black armor.  Some were in plain looking clothes, others were a bit more fancy.  There wasn’t much displayed in the way of wealth here, at least not the obvious ways of jewelry.  That was the obvious signs she had been around all her life and it was absent, forcing her to rely on other means of displaying wealth.

She was among the last three to be sold, translating the stupid Martian trader’s language to her native Venusian.  Her parents made her learn the inner planet’s way of speaking; something about refinement, when she was younger.  She wasn’t naturally a linguist but the more she heard the harsh sounds of Martian the more she was forced to remember her lessons.  But that had been before in better times, when Mars was just a trading partner with the other planets.  Before the Martians started on their conquests and invasions.  Her home had been the last to be overrun by their filth, and here she was.

Here she was with two others.  A tall Jovian female, muscular and well trained, she had an aura of royalty about her which was hard to explain given that she looked a bit like a … a fighter of some sort.  She was offset by the shorter; in fact she was shorter than herself, Mercurian.  It was a bit hard to notice she was female by the hair cut, given that it was an almost boyish cut, but she also had the same royal aura as the Jovian.  Then there was herself, last in line.  She tried, she tried so very much, to ignore what was going on with the continual din of voices and constant presence of savages.  She tried to look unimpressed, like it was her choice to be here in the first place, but her trembling hands, bound at the wrist, said otherwise.

* * *

Under a canopy to deny the harshness of the unforgiving sun, the King sat with the best view that the arena would offer.  He had watched the haggling since this morning, the spoils of wars changing hand with the soft sound of coins meeting each other and an awaiting palm.  He paused for a moment in watching, sensing a presence walking up to his seat from behind before his attention returned to the last three that would be put up for sale this day.

His daughter, freshly arrived in the court, stood besides his throne.  Not taking his gaze off of the slaves he praised her none the less.  “You did excellent work on Venus.  I am rather proud of you.”

“I did what was expected of me.”  She answered easily, crossing her hands behind her back.  She stood easily, hardly rigid but how quickly she could move to attention if it was needed.  No one objected to her wearing a sword in the presence of her father; it was expected after all.  A rather nasty thing that, a flat back that gave way to a sloping cutting edge.  It could rip easily through armor, particularly mail, which was why she liked it.

“Something of interest down there?”  It was more a statement than a question; a Martian did not question after all and merely took what they wanted.  It was why the War Machine that was the planet was unstoppable, it was why it was so wealthy in conquests.  Asking questions just invited weakness in.

“The Mercurian served me well in the palace. I want to sell her to make her knowledge usable for the warlords.  A little competition would serve them well.”  He smirked, leaning back in his chair, watching the trader continue to hype up the last purchase as he should, given what they were.  “Lord Anatares is selling the Jovian.  He trained her as a gladiator … just look at her, such strength and posture!  As for the Venusian…” his voice trailed off for a moment.  “Her beauty is her value.  I will get a good price for her.”

She recognized her immediately.  The hateful stare, even if it was given at the ground.  Her golden hair… she was still wearing her dress she had been captured in, from Venus.  Blood decorated it in artful, to a Martian at least, splotches, dried to a dark crust.  Rust and sun; an interesting combination.

“You did a good to capture her alive,” turning to look at her finally.  “You deserve a reward for your victory.  What do you wish for?”

The auction had started by this point, voices rising and falling as each person tried to outbid their neighbor for such fine exotics.  She ignored the sound, thinking for a moment while her gaze never left the sight of the blonde.  “Her.  I want her.”  Not that she could justify to herself why she would say that, but there was something about the Venusian that drew her in.

Her father shook his head.  “She has no shape at all; much too soft and spoiled.  The Jovian on the other hand … that’s a fine girl.  She would make a good combatant for you and bring you prestige in the coliseum.  Why don’t you take her instead?”

“I don’t care about that.  I want her, not some Jovian.”  Her gaze still hadn’t left the blonde, ignoring the other two with her. 

He chuckled softly, knowing her stubborn nature.  “Maybe I understood your intentions wrong.  Let’s have a closer look.”  With a wave of his hand he gave the trader a signal to bring the blonde forward.  Like delicate glass filtered by sunlight she glowed, she looked smooth, she looked fragile.  At the same though she appeared cold and hard, refusing to look at the King.  

* * *

Presenting only her profile she could care less about what was going on.  She should care though, she should care very much.  This was her life at stake, her very future.  She couldn’t though bring herself to look, knowing that she wouldn’t like what she saw in any regard.

Ignorant of the fact that someone had gestured to get her to turn, all she felt was the handle of the fat Martian trader’s whip against her cheek, pressing at first lightly then with more force to get her to turn her head to be better seen.  Refusing to cooperate she fought against it, signalling in her own way she wasn’t some mare to be purchased for breeding.  The trader had enough of that, muttering under his breath in Martian about spoiled bitches.

Her wrists were bound but it didn’t stop her from suddenly lashing out.  Her nails were manicured and quite well cared for, strong in their own way.  Slashing in the way that only nails could, she scratched his face with a bare of her teeth.  The trader instantly responded, losing his temper.  The whip was raised, swinging in a wide circle that promised when it landed, it would be painful.  Her body tensed, tightening, promising she wouldn’t cry out at that.

* * *

The King laughed, a thick and rich sound that paused the trader in his tracks, the whip lowering once more.  “Now I understand why she captured your attention so.  This won’t be boring.”  A low voice carried his words to his daughter.  Snapping his fingers with a single point at the blonde, indicating the auction for her was over.  “Take her as a present from me.  A trophy for your triumph over her pitiful home planet.”

* * *

Respectfully she inclined her head to her father, before turning to descend the passageway down to the arena floor.  Her pace was languid, confident and sure as she stopped before her new slave.  Out of habit her hand moved to rest on her sword hilt, taking her in.  The Venusian looked a little under the weather up close, but she was still beautiful.  Her hair was almost like golden silk, though it was tousled up.  Lacking even a single scar on her pale skin, despite the Martian idea of beauty and aesthetics of a fighter that embodied the Jovian, to her, the Venusian looked beautiful.  Divine.  She had fire under her skin, hate like raw passion.

Her eyes moved away from her after lingering for a moment longer, focusing on the trader who met her crimson gaze respectfully.  “Does she understand our language?  At least a little?”

The trader bowed before answering her query.  “My Lady, she hasn’t spoke at all with a Martian since I got her in.  But, she talked to the foreign slaves.”

“I see.”  Her eyes returned to the blonde, looking for any notion that she understood, any sign that she comprehended what was being said.  “Well … let’s see if the bird will talk to me.  Slave, what is your name?”

* * *

Understanding the Martian bitch perfectly fine didn’t mean she had to answer her.  She wasn’t worth the words, instead looking away to focus on the sword.  It was the same one that had killed her father, had killed so very many people.  She bet if she had that, she could kill the Martian bitch too.  It was what she plotted on, thinking of, planning countless ways that she could just get her hands on it.

* * *

“Tell me … your name …” Her voice takes on a demanding edge to it, raising slightly with malice.

At last she was awarded when the blonde snapped at her, confirming that she understood Martian at the very least.  That she understood exactly what was being said to her.  “And what will you do if I don’t, kill me like my parents?!”

The trader raised his whip again, intent to punish the blonde for daring to talk so disrespectfully to his princess.  “If you hit her now, I’ll make sure you’ll get it returned tenfold,” crimson eyes pinned him down, her face cold.  Back to her slave it went, admitting almost softly.  “No, I don’t want to kill you.”

“What a pity, because I want to kill you!”  The Venusian instantly fired back, her entire mannerisms spoke of her growing agitation.

She was indeed amused.  “You’ll never be able to ki-” Her words were cut off as the Venusian spit in her face.  With a thin growl, she reached out, grasping the sleeve of the blonde’s sleeve and ripped it off, bringing the material to her face to wipe away the spittle.

“Watch it!”  The trader’s warning came too late as enraged the blonde threw herself at the Princess.  She tried to get her hands on the sword to draw it out of its scabbard, to stab the Martian bitch right here in the dust.  But her hands didn’t have the room to maneuver.  She couldn’t even come close to it.

Rather taken aback by the moment, fascinated by the sudden act, both went down in a heap  It caused quite the murmur through the audience who had been watching the exchange rather enraptured.  Never before in all of her fights in the arena had the Princess touched ground inadvertently.  Now they hung on with obvious interest, talking among themselves and pointing at the scene presented before them.  “That’s it, Venusian!  I’ll show you what it means to insult a royal on Mars!”  The trader moved, about to drag the slave away from his princess to give her the serious beating she more than deserved.

Her hand raised, stopping him yet again.  She didn’t care about his disappointment, looking instead rather bemusedly at the blonde.  “I didn’t think you would go down on me so fast.”  Smirking she rolled the blonde off of her and pushed back up to her feet.  The blonde laid on the ground, like a turtle unable to right itself.  It presented the perfect opportunity for another joke about her race but she decided against voicing it.  With a hand grasping the blond by her bound wrists to pull her up to her feet until she was face to face with her.  “Perhaps you should let out some steam and calm down.  I just happen to have the perfect opportunity for you.”  She paused, regarding her for a moment before continuing on.  “You’ll be cleaning the stables.”

“I am the Princess of Venus!  I don’t do the work of servants!”  Came the instant retort with a glare, looking at her angrily.

She was getting tired of this, looking at the girl as though she were slow in the head.  “You used to be a Princess.  Now, you’re the slave of a Princess.  You are  _ my  _ slave.”  The emphasis was heavy.  “It’s the stables and you had best do a thorough job, otherwise you’ll be cleaning the latrines.  Naked.”  She added in a sweet voice, her smile however could not be considered that.

The Venusian sputtered, her breath hot as her eyes stabbed like daggers.  “I’d rather fuck a pig…” It was a mutter under her breath, but given how close the Martian was she probably heard it anyway.  She found herself uttering out her agreement.  

Much to the amusement of the Martian Princess who grinned.  “That’s better, slave.” 


	3. Chapter 3

Her anger could be considered tangible, rolling off of her like waves as she fumed.  She could almost reach right out and touch it, could almost feel it if she was so inclined to want to do that.  Instead she was silent, walking behind the Martian guard who had the pleasure and honor and sole tasking of leading her to the stables.  If the Martian bitch thought she was going to be broken by such a little task, she was going to be in for it.  After all, she had owned her own horse on Venus, and seriously, doing some cleaning never really looked that hard.  Especially after she watched the stable boys do it.

It all changed however once she saw at least two score, if not more, horses that awaited her once the guard stopped.  Unable to help it she was prompt to exclaim, “I’m not here to clean the stables for the whole Martian army!”

The guard chuckled, his voice rumbling which made the words out of his mouth almost impossible for her to comprehend.  “No.  These are the Royal Stables.  The horses belong to the King and Princess alone.”

She turned to face him as she crossed her arms before her, the tip of her shoe, a rather delicate construct, pressing against the cobbles beneath her feet.  “And how do you expect me to clean anything in this dress?”

Grinning he showed her an irregular line of teeth, most dark save for the occasional one that was yellow.  Putrid breath assaulted her immediately with his words, “I could help you with that, if you insist.”  His hand reached, grabbing a fistful of her hair to pull her head down from the arrogant upward tilt it had but moments ago, directing her gaze to follow the gestures of his other hand, whether she wanted to or not.  “You see that guy over there?”  Pointing to a man carrying a bucket of water to the back of the stables, dragging his left leg behind him.  “He refused to obey and got his knee smashed.  So if you continue to act like a brat, I will do something far worse to you.”  

Her scalp screamed at her, feeling like if she didn’t look he’d rip a huge chunk of hair right from her head.  Regardless though of the feeling she watched the man.  While she couldn’t rightly see his knee, given behind he was working behind a stable stall now, she could tell he was in pain just by the way that he moved.  Carefully she looked back at the guard, ever conscious of her hair.  “I’m sure your _princess_ wouldn’t like it if you treat her … _slave_ … like that.”  Somehow she managed to twist disgust into her words, knowing she was crossing a line talking about the Martian bitch in such a manner with the asshole guard, but she wouldn’t help it.  Maybe he was fearful of the bitch; it was worth a gamble.

“But she isn’t here right now, is she?”  His mouth opened; if she thought his breath was bad before it was far worse now.  An equally disgusting tongue emerged, flicking across his lips as he sneered.  She shuddered, quickly stepping back the moment he released her hair.  Blowing a kiss in her direction he laughed at her disgusted look.  “Start your work.  Pitchfork to the left, straw’s there.”  He directed with a nod of his head to where bales of yellow-gold straw were stacked.

She glared at him while he continued to eye her, probably undressing her right then and there.  “You don’t need to stand here all day.  I’m capable of doing this without some watchdog.”

“I am just making sure you do your task right.  Now, shut up and start or I will bathe you in horse shit.”

“Some manners wouldn’t hurt you…” she muttered under her breath in her native tongue, looking back to the horses.  With a resigned sigh she collected a pitchfork, having a thought about turning it on the guard and stabbing him.  It would kill him yes but she’d likely die too, and dying in a horse shit filled stable wasn’t how she planned on going.  To the first stable she went, eyeing the horse that at least wasn’t some vicious one, setting to her thankless work.

Doing as she told she kept a discreet eye between the guard and the other man working in the back.  Her arms began to ache, burning to remind her this wasn’t something she did normally.  She puffed out a breath, trying to also ignore the fact that the last time she ate would have been when her parents were still alive.  Before the Martian fuckers arrived.  Before that bitch killed her father.  She pressed her lips tightly together, rapidly blinking her eyes and blaming the need to cry purely on the environment.

After some time, about the seventh stable, another soldier showed up.  Both stared at her up and down like she was a piece of meat, prompting her to push the pitchfork deeper into the dirty straw.  There’d be something really satisfying about getting it covered in horse shit, then stab both of them, right in the eyes with the twines.  By the ninth stable, arms were positively feeling like lead weights, the two guards grew tired of leering at her and talking about how many different ways they’d fuck her, settling down on a few crates.  One of them pulled out a folded up board and stones for some game.

They weren’t paying any attention to her and she systematically worked her way into the background.  Once she was in hearing range of the fair haired man; white if not silverish it looked like, she tried to address him in Martian.

He looked up, pale periwinkle eyes darting to the guards to ensure they were still far too busy in their game to notice before he looked back to her.  “Madam, please forgive my curiosity, but where are you from?  I’ve never seen you here before.”  His voice was much to be soft to be Martian, his words lacked the language’s rough and heavy consonants.

It felt like a heavyweight slipped from her shoulders at hearing his polite, obviously non-Martian tone.  With a small curtsy that even the pitchfork in hand couldn’t detract from, she introduced herself.  “I’m the Princess of Venus, Minako.  Pleased to meet you…”

His bow to her was far deeper, despite the injury he suffered to his leg that now in closer proximity to him, she could tell was twisted and caused his foot to stick out at a funny angle.  “My name is Kunzite, Commander of the Cavalry of Earth.”  A bitter snort followed as he righted himself.  “At least, when there was a cavalry force still existing on Earth.  They overran us and brought the nobles, along with the best horses, here.  As for me, they humiliated me with enslavement.  My task is to train the horses.”  A hand rose, gesturing around either of them.

“I heard about the fall of Earth…”  She trailed off, looking sad yet she felt happy to finally be able to talk to someone that wasn’t Martian trained or influenced or from the barbaric planet.  “Who…” She hesitated in asking before pressing on.  “Who do you belong to?”

“The King owns me.  But, my heart and my will only belongs to my master, Endymion, the Prince of Earth.  His fate is far worse than mine however, as he was sold to the Princess of Mars.”

“Gods…”  Her gaze went wide, her voice soft and small.  She knew who some of the reigning nobles were of different planets, being required to learn of them just as she was of their languages.  Her grasp on the pitchfork loosened, nearly dropping it and she would have had he not intervened to prevent its fall.  The realization hit her hard, cerulean eyes filling for a moment with tears as she understood her fate.  A fuck toy for the Martian bitch.

* * *

She no longer needed to tie him to anything, like she had in the beginning of their physical encounters.  He was participating willingly now, obeying her orders immediately as she vocalized them, or gave any other indication for that matter.  She couldn’t blame him; her beauty was proverbial and he had the privilege to be welcomed in her bed.  It offered him some benefits, a relief to his otherwise status as a slave.  Even a man with so strong morals as him was still a man after all.

There were a few provisions she had taken when she had started to seduce him.  For one, it would not stand if she, the Princess of Mars, was saddled down with a child.  Especially not the child of a slave, even if she was impressed enough by his character to allow him into her bed.  She was rather particular about her sexual partners, selective where others were lax.  Of things her home had, they could at least boast of apothecaries, visiting with one she left her exact specifics of what she desired.  Outside of taking treatments for grievous pain, the apothecary seemed almost taken aback by the request but just a look from her crimson gaze got the woman moving along.

From there her seduction of him had been easy, another sort of conquest that she’d win at just as she did all the others.  She didn’t trust him completely and never would, but they had progressed along that she was willing to let a few of her guards down.  Her exterior was still hard, unbreakable, a stout fortress.  She wouldn’t smile around him, but on occasion she did allow a few less biting smirks make their way to the surface.

Thoughts entirely for another time however, having absolutely no bearing on the moment.  The moment was all about pleasure, her eyes fluttered between staying open and being closed.  His hands were at her hips, it could almost be considered he was directing her had she not been so thoroughly dominate of him.  Her own were perched on his shoulders, their bodies moving in time to one another despite each protest that the bed gave.  

He was holding out, noting how he bit his lip, feeling how his fingertips pressed against her hip bone.  Likely he was trying to garner favor with her, driving her to her own orgasm first, pleasing her first and foremost.  It was almost sweet, she might actually be swayed to consider it had her own impending climax not taken precedence of her thoughts.  Nails pressed against flesh, threatening to pierce its protective barrier while her body tightened, clenching hard.  Her breath caught, eyes blazing but unseeing as they stared up at the ceiling.

Around her body she felt his arms tighten, hearing his own breath grow more frantic.  The way his body moved under hers as she rode out her release then the jerky nature of his own.  She felt heated, warm beyond her otherwise higher body temperature.  Allowing him to hold her body to his own as he struggled for breath she released a sigh, not quite something of contentment but enough that he should be able to deduct from it he had pleased her.

For the time she silently reveled in the moment, lying in his arms before she pressed up to sit.  There was too much left for her to do today that lounging about with him, even if she was so inclined, wouldn’t happen.  There was still the matter of her newest possession, a thought given to if she had shirked in her duties or not, before she flicked her fingers at the man who understood his place, already rising to leave.  Giving him a smirk to let her princely slave know he had done well she rose to bathe and think.

* * *

“I know her…” she whispered after she found her voice again.  Blood pounded in her ears but was slowly relenting.  It wasn’t where she came to terms with her fate, nor was it where she accepted it.  It was just to dwell on it any more was not worth it, not right now.  “She also bought me…”  A sigh followed in wake of her words.  “I hate it.  I hate her … I’m afraid of what she will do to me.”

Carefully he extended his hand to her, causing her to eye it thoughtfully before she finally laid her fingers in his palm.  Calloused from the hard work he was equally being forced to do.  Her hands were going to turn into the same thing she realized.  That Martian bitch would probably have her doing more and at the moment, her mind wasn’t willing to conjure up the horrors.  She was used to a life of luxury, a superficial existence that was being shattered left and right around her.

He raised her hand to his lips, kissing across her knuckles.  The courtly gesture brought a soft blush to her features, furthering his initial impressions of her.  A perfect young woman who was trying to keep her manners in this kind of hell hole.  “I wish I could protect you from all harm, Princess.”  His gaze went to around the corner, searching for the guards and finding them still at their game.  “I know a bit of Venusian, may we please switch to your own language, your Highness?”

“I’d love to!” her blue eyes were absolutely gleaming with joy.  “What did you want to tell me?”  In what could only be considered the softest, most gentlest language that existed she spoke.  Lyrical, musical, it flowed like an unobstructed stream, filled with feelings and emotions.

His breath caught in his throat as he listened to her in her native tongue.  She spoke Martian near flawlessly; the only thing that gave it completely away was the fact she wasn’t Martian in the first place.  There was no way for her to properly put the harshness of sounds behind each linguistic offering.  In her native tongue however, her words flowed with what could only be described as elegance.  Somehow, she seemed even more beautiful.  “I barely dare to speak to you about this or burden you with secrets that could endanger your safety further.  Nor do I wish to plant false hope within your heart.”

He hadn’t released her hand yet, prompting her to grip his own tighter.  “My entire existence here is a danger.  Please, go on.”  It felt beyond words she had to hear the language of her home again.  While he spoke with an accent, it was small, coming only into play when he hit certain notes.  Whoever his teacher was had done a wonderful job of instructing him on the intricacies of Venusian.

With a nod he continued, “For some months now, I’ve tried to work out an escape for my master.  I think I may have found a weakness at their docks, which would allow us to capture a ship.  It would be a huge honor if you would come with us.  I would see to it personally that you are brought to a safe place, wherever you would want to go.”

The single word of ‘escape’ rang like a bell within her heart, causing it to flutter like a bird desiring to flee the bounds of its cage.  “No, I’d be honored!”  She exclaimed louder than she intended, worriedly looking towards the two guards who looked up now, likely realizing that both were not at what they were supposed to be.

“I did hope for that answer!  A beautiful young Lady as you does not belong here.”  Hearing the footfalls of heavy boots coming down the corner he quickly whispered the rest out in some tone of exciting franticness.  “I will contact you again in a few days.  Please, do not despair!  My master and I are true to our word!”

“I trust you.”  She whispered, collecting the pitchfork again in hand to return to work.  One of the guards rounded the corner, barking at her potential saviour with a few rough words of Martian she couldn’t translate.  Gripping the pitch fork tighter, she stabbed at the straw again, doing her best impression of inconspicuousness.

But in her chest she felt hope, a reason to hold out no matter what the Martian bitch might have planned.


	4. Chapter 4

Beyond dusk she worked, her movements considered something that would only be automatic.  The sort of motions that one would go through when their mind had all but shut down, running through commands without any sort of conscious input as to why they were doing such, where the means didn’t matter as long as they supported the end.  Simple commands; push the pitchfork in, collect the dirty straw, carry it away.  Collect fresh straw and spread it in the stalls.  Rinse and repeat, as the jargon went.  It was an easy mantra to follow and hold to.

As she worked on though it was more than obvious that she was slowing down.  Her actions became weak, sloppy, lacking concentration the longer the afternoon stretched into evening, giving way to twilight.  She had already ruined her shoes beyond imagination, the fabric of her dress long since stabbed over and over again with straw along with rips from where an errant splinter laid claim.  Having tripped and fallen more than once into a stable not yet clean, her attire as well as her skin bore the signs of it all too well.

What in the name of anything sane was the Martian bitch thinking?  Not even a strong man could handle this task alone, least of all herself.  She knew women were strong yes; she had seen Makoto after all and even managed a few words with her, she looked strong but still even this would have been too much for her  She was a Princess, no matter what anyone had to say otherwise about it or perhaps, in spite of what they had to say.  This physical task was beyond her; sheer willpower kept her moving knowing that otherwise, she would admit to defeat.  And doing that in a stable would not settle with her.

When night had set and she could no longer see the floor for sure any more, the guard appeared at her side holding aloft a lantern.  At first she despaired; what a rich thing that would be.  Just because the sun had set didn’t mean she could stop working.  By lantern light if necessary, that fucker planned on working her into the ground.

“That’s enough for today.  Come with me.”

She didn’t move one way or the other, not towards resuming work, not towards following him.  If anything, her movements were to lean against the pitchfork.  “Where do you want me to go?”  She was tired, barely uttering off the Martian words audibly.

He met her gaze, his voice, her mind was slow to process, was soft and respectful, a far cry from what it had been hours ago.  “The Princess wants to see you.”

At first, she considered putting up a fight with him, but she knew the energy would be wasted and she didn’t have a whole lot left in the first place.  If the bitch wanted to see her, she could tell her what exactly it was she thought of her, right in her face.

* * *

The guard walked the maze of corridors in the palace with a practiced ease that said he was more than familiar with them, while she struggled to keep up within the circle of light that his lantern cast.  She didn’t want to get lost here, alone in the darkness and chill of both the night and the unknown.  This palace was so different from what she knew; so dark and gloomy.  It made her miss the bright welcoming halls of her home more than ever, if not the very concept of light itself.

When she almost tripped at the start of a staircase she couldn’t help the mutter that escaped, “Gods, don’t you even have enough money for lamps here?”  Annoyed she hurried to reclaim her spot in the weak light that was her beacon, climbing the stairs was agony at this point but being left behind was a worse fate.  The guard didn’t answer her, merely climbing the broad, half a dozen steps before resuming a straight shot down another corridor, coming to a halt at a door she would have missed otherwise.

The Princess’ emblem was carved into the door, the Martian eagle over crown that was impaled by a sword.  Knocking three times the guard waited for the resulting “enter” to be given, opening it up first for her to step in before him, following after by closing the door behind him and standing at attention.

* * *

She sat alone within her rooms, simplistically decorated with only what was considered necessary.  At her desk an oil lamp provided the dim light that her eyes were more than used to, hands busy at cleaning her sword.  The knock at the door didn’t stop her, nor did her command that he was allowed to enter.  She was looking forward to seeing how the Venusian fared, but as they stepped in, she knew the guard would need to be dealt with first.

“At ease, soldier.”  She spoke, noting his salute but the fact he did not really relax, much less fake that he was.  He, like so many, was quite fearful of her.  “So tell me… how did our little Venusian behave?  How did she work?”  Addressing him as she stood up, her sword left on the desktop, and came closer, her gaze drifted easily from the guard to her slave in examination.  Her dress was … it certainly could not be considered a dress any longer.  The sandals she was wearing didn’t look like they fared any better; straps were frawed if not completely missing, and the scent emanating from her was the typical smell of horses.

The guard looked straight ahead, gaze focused on some meaningless point on a far wall, doing all in his power to avoid her eyes.  “My Lady, she had an unapproved talk with the slave Kunzite, but otherwise she worked hard and did not spare herself.”

Her gaze turned to her slave, looking for any sort of reaction as the guard spoke.  For her part, the Venusian managed somehow, despite the way her features screamed she was tired, to look disinterested in the whole conversation and exchange.  It was almost snobbish; it would have been had her other emotions betrayed her.  It wasn’t the attire that did so, torn and dirty or not.  The fact she was exhausted did, detracting from the otherwise haunty expression.  “You can learn a lot from this slave, especially what happens to the ones who don’t obey.  On the other hand…”  She looked back to the guard, focusing on him.  “How was it possible for that talk to happen in the first place when someone would have fulfilled his duties like he was supposed to do?”

The guard began to break into a sweat, the penetrating aroma of such a scent was something she was quite familiar with.  More so when it was laced with fear.

“He also failed to mention where him and his buddy leered at me, shared their perverse sexual fantasies and where he nearly ripped my hair from my head.”  Her slave chimed up, her Martian quite refreshing.  For a moment, she had almost forgotten she was in the middle of interrogating her soldier.  It was not the dialect she was used to in any regard; it seemed light, almost soothing.

But the matter at hand demanded her attention more so than words.  Crimson eyes narrowed dangerously at the man.  “Did he now?”  She whispered, her voice dripping with malice.  “Thank you for including what he chose to forget.”  Boring into him with perfected precision she stepped closer, “I’ll make sure that will never happen again.  You are dismissed, await outside my door for further instructions.”

The quickest salute ever possible was given and like that he was gone, glad and relieved to be out of her presence.  The door shut behind them softly but she paid it no mind, too busy looking at her slave.  Her gaze was down, not looking at the floor but rather at an imaginary point a foot or so off of it.  On occasion it rose, flicking around the room but never settling on any of the sparse decorations enough to give an insight to her thoughts.  

It took her some time to finally catch the blue gaze with her own, meeting the forced indifference the other clung to like a shield for a moment before she spoke.  “How about a bath?”

* * *

Shown to a bathroom she was thankful for the prospect of getting clean.  This room was well lit in comparison, making for a welcoming impression with shades of orange and red sandstone.  It was a far cry from the other room; having really only taken in a few quick glances of it because it just wouldn’t do to stand around and gawk.  She was too tired for that anyway, even if she wanted to.  The other room seemed to be darker shades, maybe reds and browns, but she couldn’t be sure because it was so dim.  Far too many shadows to even guess at it.

Locking the door behind her she sank down the wooden surface to the floor, feeling a momentary sense of peace even though she knew it was completely false.  A door wasn’t going to protect her; she more than anyone knew that.  The long day, the events, the circumstances, and the unusual, backbreaking work were taking a toll on her.  She finally looked down at herself for the first time in what felt like forever.  Her feet were more covered in dirt than in shoes really, leaving sticky footprints to trail behind her wherever she walked.  Her dress was a mess, torn beyond the possibility to be sewn back together, encrusted with shit and her father’s dried blood.

Tears welled up in her eyes, pooling before spilling over her cheeks unchecked.  She couldn’t fight them any longer, letting each fall as she silently sobbed.  There was no way she would be able to wear the dress anymore, and that was what hurt the most.  The single thing she had from home that still belonged to her was ruined.

After a while of untamed crying she finally rose, grabbing a fluffy white towel off the holder without a care that her face was streaked with dirt, dabbing it dry.  She needed to pull herself together, now more than ever!  Her gaze took in the bathroom; it looked nicer than the rest of the room she had bothered to see.  A copper tub, well polished, was the primary inhabitant of the room, but there was a sink as well and a cutaway area she guessed was the water closet.  

The sink she filled, finding a bottle of fragrance to be more than generous about pouring in, as she would need it to get the stench out.  Slipping from her shoes, she peeled off the dress, finding a section of it that was still presentable.  Her fingers worked a hole in the material until her hands could grasp it, ripping a length away from the rest of what was once her attire.  Into the warm water it went, scrubbing it as clean as she could, even though hardly any of the blood was removed, too far gone into the very fibers.  She would wear it in her hair from now own, reminding her of the home she had lost, it would give her strength and purpose to hold out.

The rest of her clothes were useless anyway, or at least what she had worn.  A rueful look was given to the single pair of panties before she started to untangle the knots out of her hair, removing bits of straw that had decided to make a home within.  Rinsing and washing it, it took still another rinsing and washing before it would accept the soapy foam and engulf her golden mane completely.  Thoroughly washed, she dried it and used her fingers as best as possible as a comb before taking the length of cloth torn from her dress to tie up.

A bath came next, scrubbing her body hard to get everything off that clung to her in shape or smell.  That it left her skin red she didn’t care about, it was almost therapeutic to feel like she had been cleansed of something yet heartbreaking to know she had not.  Changing the water three times it was by the fourth she finally felt clean and relaxed enough to sink down into the welcoming warmth until it hugged her chin.  Dimly she stared ahead, trying to focus on what she should do.

If only she hadn’t been so stupid and spilled the drink her mother had offered her!  At first, it had been a hard realization that hit her, that it was indeed a poison.  But how would she have acted in her mother’s place instead?  She had seen no other way out and had chosen the path of least resistance, the least painful escape for them both.  But she didn’t know it at the time, and like her parents her way out was lost to her.  She closed her eyes, sinking under the surface of the water, not wanting to think any more.  Maybe if she stayed here long enough her body would liquefy and be drained away like the water.  But the need for air became insatiable and she resurfaced.  No, she wouldn’t be gone like that!  She was still a Princess after all.

Drifting tendrils of lyrics filled her mind, solidifying into words of a song that she knew by heart.  One that she held dear as it summed up quite well who she was and what she thought about herself.  “Whenever I see someone, less fortunate than I…” She started to hum, turning into silently singing along in Venusian.  “And let's face it, who isn't, less fortunate than I?  My tender heart tends to start to bleed…”  Now she was the unfortunate here, ripped from all of the things that she was used to and which made her life so enjoyable.  Instead, she found herself right in the middle of this mess with no way out but a faint hope of harrowing escape.  Her voice, clear and vibrant, slowly carried the sad notes of another song now.  “Don't wish, don't start. Wishing only wounds the heart…”

* * *

She was starting to pace in anxiety.  It wasn’t an emotion she was used to feeling, this mix of nervousness and anticipation.  There wasn’t an issue with letting her slave use the bathroom; the truth was she was looking forward to sharing much more with her in the future.  The blonde had impressed her by her hard work.  She would have taken any bet presented to her concerning the Venusian’s work habits, expecting her to have refused, to have failed, or to have taken an easy way out, yet she was surprised at the report that she had taken to it.

Around her room in precision steps she went, thinking.  Her slave needed new clothes no doubt; her old ones were nothing more than rags now and in bad shape.  Tomorrow she could get her a new outfit, for tonight however she had picked something special.  Left across her dark red bedding, the black gauzy material she anticipated would look wonderful in, especially given her hair and the perfection of her skin.

The blonde was taking ages in the bathroom, triggering now her impatience.  The sounds of water had since subsided and yet she still had yet to emerge.   Completing yet another short circuit of her rooms she paused for a moment.  Perhaps food was also a good idea, save that she had no idea what Venusians even liked to eat.  What was available here would have to suffice, striding to the door.  She ignored the guard still standing post there, speaking instead to a servant who was prompt in returning; they were equally afraid of her.

Dismissing the servant she resumed her pacing, much slower now as she thought of her plans for the evening.  A faint sound drew her attention, brow furrowing before making her way to the still closed bathroom door.  Pressing an ear to it the noises continued, clearer now but still muffled.  She was singing she realized, her voice soft and sad, invoking emotions within her on its path to her heart.  A little Venusian she could understand; it wasn’t something she had bothered to pursue because it was known to be an extravagant language belonging to spoiled people, but hearing it now… if that wasn’t Venusian she didn’t know what would be.  It was beautiful, exotic, something that she secretly admired.

Such a voice almost silenced forever.  She looked at the door to her rooms, anger suddenly filling her.  Clearly, she told the guard to keep himself in check, to make sure her slave did not do anything stupid and primarily to keep an eye on her.  Nothing in her orders said to accost her, much less leer at her, or touch her hair, or openly speak about his stupid fantasies.  The Venusian belonged to _her_ .  How dare someone make her feel uncomfortable.  How dare someone touch her very _property_.  Back to the door she went, her steps quick, ordering him to reenter.

* * *

She would have fallen asleep if the knock at the bathroom door hadn’t startled her back to awareness.  Words followed the rapt at the door, “I had a dinner prepared for you, in case you wanted something to eat.”  The voice of the Martian bitch was much softer now, drifting through the door.

Staring at it in confusion the grumbling rumble of her stomach answered before her mind could think about it.  “I’ll be done in a few minutes.”  She heard herself respond, lingering for a moment longer before she rose from the tub.  Grabbing the largest towel she could find she dried off, wrapping it firmly around her body to protect her otherwise nude form.  It wasn’t like she had anything else to wear anyway.  Catching the drain she stared at herself in the mirror set above the sink but only for a moment.

Bare feet carried her to the door that she unlocked and opened, stepping back into the main room once more.  The Martian was once again sitting at her desk, cleaning her sword.  It didn’t make any sense to her; it had been clean when she first arrived.  Had she used it again in her absence?  Cerulean eyes were quick in their scan, looking for anything out of place.  A few drops of blood along the floor was all the proof she needed to know it had indeed been used.  Maybe it was the guard’s blood she found herself wishing before shoving the thoughts aside.

Clutching the towel around her she was reminded once more it was all she was wearing as the Martian looked up at her.  The assortment of fruits, fresh bread, cheese and more at the table in front of a window stopped her internal monologue, watching as the other gestured at her to take what she desired and have a seat.  She paused in her refined manners of collecting something to eat.  Glancing up, her gaze narrowed, trying to pinpoint what it was she was seeing but it was too dim and dark in the room for her to make out.

A single eye, torn from its socket, rested on cupboard shelf, a sentinel that didn’t care about the lack of light present.  The occasional drip from the pool of blood it rested in made its way to the floor without acknowledgement otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Popular and I’m Not That Girl (Reprise), from the musical “Wicked” by Stephen Schwartz.


	5. Chapter 5

From her place at the desk, she cautiously eyed her surroundings while she ate thoughtfully, but quickly.  At least, as fast as her starving stomach would allow for without getting sick from it.  There was no telling when she’d get her next meal, and at the rate it was going, it might take some time before that happened again.  The furniture and far ends of the walls seemed to lose themselves in the nothingness of darkness, where the light of candles could not, or maybe, would not reach.  

She tried to avoid looking at the Martian but her gaze always came back to her, like it was pulled by a magnet.  The woman sat, waiting on the bed and seemingly relaxed.  Only the top of her one of her feet bobbing up and down with a rhythm gave away the fact she was anticipating something.  Of all the Martians she had seen so far, she grudgingly admitted to herself that she was the most beautiful one.  With hair like midnight silk, highlights catching the glow of fire from the candles, making her shine with it.  

Pale skin stood in contrast to it and she wondered for a moment, how the other managed to keep it so flawless in all the battles she must have fought.  Maybe losing wasn’t an option for her.  Her cheekbones were high and gave her a stunning expression.  But the crimson eyes were what troubled her the most, repulsive and fascinating at the same time.  Like a mistake of nature you couldn’t look away from, like some crippled limb.

* * *

She didn’t speak.  She was just sitting there, silently watching the Venusian eat like there was no tomorrow.  From time to time she felt the other’s gaze on her, a dark cerulean she could still make out even in the half light offered by the waning candles.  There was an impatience there she realized, growing with each moment that existed.  Her foot moved on its own accord, a bad habit she couldn’t get rid of though she had tried.

“Now that you have surely washed your ears in all the time you spent in the bath… would you tell me your name?”  Breaking the silence she asked in an actual light, playful tone.

The blonde put her fork down, surprisingly she didn’t drop it for the speed she employed, shooting her a glare with a mixture of annoyance and arrogance.  “You really don’t know it, do you Rei?”

That was enough for her to raise an eyebrow in surprise.  “You know my name?”

With a clatter to the floor from the chair that fell to the wayside with her movements, the blonde stood up.  “Of course I do!  My parents made sure to give me a good education, including some knowledge about the other royal families around Venus.  Something you obviously lack.  I also know about your affair with Prince Endymion from Earth.”

She involuntarily shot a glance to the bed.  Was there a revealing spot of fluid still staining it from earlier in the day?  But that was nonsense; the maids had changed the bed linens on her command before the Venusian had arrived.  Someone then must have spoken to her bird, probably Kunzite.

When she didn’t answer the Venusian pressed on, demanding, “What do you want from me?”

On the outside, she played it calm, remaining collected.  Internally she did not like this discussion that the blonde had set her up with.  She wouldn’t allow any other slave to speak to her like that; they would feel the whip for answering back in the manner that the blonde was.  This though was different, refreshing… like some kind of game.  She just needed to set some rules to it, to gain complete control of it all.

“Here on Mars, we don’t waste time on such…  _ education _ , as you call it.”  She mocked the word with a sneer.  “We learn to fight and to win.  The knowledge of weapons, strategy, the responsibility to care for armies of thousands of men and their lives; this was my education.  And the Martian type of knowledge defeated the Venusian type.”

With a snort she continued.  “And please, don’t hold Endymion against me.  He is just a plaything.  You, of all people, should know better than anyone else what that means.”  Leaning to the side she reached for the garment that had been carefully set against the bedding.  Holding it aloft she made sure the blonde would be able to see it.  Her voice dipped, turning coy, coloring her words as her eyes seemingly danced in delight.  “Wasn’t I nice to you this evening, my slave?  Why don’t you show me your gratitude?”

* * *

Her eyes widened as she took in the lingerie; that was obviously what it was for it could be nothing else.  Its black thread looked nearly transparent, woven into delicate and beautiful patterns.  On thin straps it hung from the thumbs of the Martian Princess, barely long enough to cover; more like tease, her most private parts if she even would have entertained the notion of actually putting it on.  On Venus, she would have longed to own something as seductive as it; not that she’d tell that to the Martian bitch of course, but here.  Here it had been turned into a mockery, something that spurred her anger on further.  

She nearly started to laugh at the absurdity of the situation if it wasn’t so serious.  “Wait a moment, you think all you need to draw me into your bed is a bath, a meal, and a whore outfit?!  What do you think I am!”  Her voice started to rise with every sentence.  “You invade my planet with an army, you kill my people, you destroy my home…”  She gestured hard at her with an accusing finger.  “The blood of my parents is on you, it clings to you, and you actually think I would give myself willingly into your very hands?!  I don’t know what sick, twisted game you play with the Prince of Earth here, but I won’t be a part of it!”

Rei couldn’t understand what the problem was, but she felt her own temper rising.  “Watch your voice,” she spoke in an eerily calm manner.  “And you’re a Venusian.  Don’t you sleep with anyone, regardless if they are a man or woman?  You should be honored that someone like me shows an interest in you.  Yes, as Martians we kill, we enslave, but we do so to survive.  You wouldn’t behave any differently had you been born in my place.”  She threw the lingerie at the blonde, aiming for her face.  “It’s your decision, wear it or sleep nude!  Come on, make your choice, slave.”

She grasped the material as it sailed through the air, tearing it apart quickly by way of her fingernails.  “You better get it through your thick head that I’ll never be your slave!”  Wadding the remains of the material up, she threw it back at the Martian bitch.  Striding to her she was ready to give her a powerful slap to the face, but the Princess caught her wrist in mid-air, her fingers closing about it like shackles.  In her grasp her arm was turned aside, feeling the sharp burn through her shoulder as her arm was pressed against her back.  Her towel-clad body was pressed to the Martian’s, the hand on her wrist unrelenting in its hold.

“You think you are so clever and strong, don’t you?”  She whispered, pulling her slave even closer to draw in a breath, scenting her freshly cleaned skin.  “You may not believe it, but I’m the best thing that could have happened to you here.  What position do you think you would be in if any of the warlords bought you at the slave auction?”  Allowing the words to sink in, it was a few moments before she continued on.  “You wouldn’t have even made it a step out of bed by now to inspect how bloody the insides of your thighs would be.”

“And how is this any different from what you want to do to me?”  The words came spitting back.  “For you, I’m equally an object to your lust and will, some little fuck toy for your enjoyment.  You may force yourself upon me, but you’ll  _ never  _ get my approval or my tolerance.  As soon as you close your eyes, when you sink into the cushions to sleep, I  _ will  _ kill you!”

“People have tried to kill me my whole life.  Try it, I dare you.”  Against the blonde’s ear she whispered, then opened her lips a bit further to brush them against the shell.  “The moment I saw you, I knew you were different.  I felt you think the same about me.  I saw your eyes widen in recognition, your nostrils flaring like you were in the throes of passion.”  She sighed and left a little kiss to her ear that resonated within the blonde.  “Why don’t you think about it?  I’m sure you would enjoy being with me… come on, stop playing so hard.”

She didn’t know what held possession of her body when it immediately started to respond to the Martian’s ministrations.  She had held herself upright during the flight to Mars, on the slave market, and against the guard in the stables.  Why was it betraying her now, failing her, why was it succumbing?  Against her will a shiver ran down her spine as the Princess’ lips came close to her ear and drowned it in hot breath.  “This isn’t a game to me… Try to kiss me and you’ll regret it.”

Rei knew she could have forced her slave, but she didn’t want to take her like that.  She slowly released her wrist a bit, and when the blonde didn’t run for her freedom, she reached up to stroke her soft cheek.  The air felt heated between them, charged from the arguments and attraction.  Closing her repelling eyes she finally leaned in to her, gentle and slow, not wanting to rush this moment.

* * *

She hadn’t planned for this to happen, but when she felt the Martian’s lips make contact with hers, she subconsciously compared it to the other kisses she had received so far in her life.  Not that there were many.  Most of them were fast pecks of some hyper-nervous young Venusian noble, with cold sweaty palms, far too stunned in their self-satisfaction that they actually kissing her, the Princess, and too afraid to get caught for it.  Nor were these the sloppy types of kisses a young man had laid on her when they had both drunk too much, not really knowing what they did.

No, Rei wasn’t in a hurry.  She feared none because everyone feared her, and she didn’t need to prove the worth of her kiss to anyone, because she knew everything about it.  And what a kiss it was!  She was obviously far more experienced in this field than the blonde, taking full advantage of it.  Focusing only on her partner’s pleasure where others had on their own.

On the hard brink of feeling herself succumb to the kiss, of opening her lips to further pleasure, she grasped the last bit of sense she found in herself.  Clawing at it with her hands and teeth, as if an abyss had opened under her and she would fall into it if she didn’t catch herself, if she didn’t hold onto her life for all she was worth.  Her teeth bared, biting hard, tearing, tasting blood on her lips when the Martian pulled away from her.  She watched as the Princess spit to the side while she swallowed it down as though it were ambrosia.

* * *

She didn’t give a damn about her bloody lip; she was far too turned on by her slave’s behavior to care about something like that right now.  Her voice was like silk, smooth, flowing with heated promises.  “Come to my bed.  I will fulfill your every desire.  The sweet and gentle ones, the dark ones you can’t even admit to yourself that you have.  The ones that crawl under your skin, that are begging to be released.”

The blonde though had regained her senses, “There is absolutely no way I am sharing the bed with you!”  She snatched a pillow from the bed, turning to stride to a sofa on the far side of the room, as far away as she could get as possible.  Turning about she added, “And you better stop trying to project your own bad habits on other people.”  The pillow went down on the sofa, pulling the towel around her as a makeshift blanket as she laid down.

The Martian watched in stunned silence, nearly taken aback.

* * *

She had really tried, honestly, to stay true to her promise and wait for the bitch to fall asleep.  So she could get up, take her sword, and slit her throat with it.  So she could extract her vengeance for what she did to her life, her home, her family.  But the exhausting day, the events, the haunting kiss, everything that happened took its toll.  It was only minutes before her body felt heavy, losing the battle to stay awake and instead, to sleep she fell.

* * *

Laying awake in bed until she heard light snoring, she rose again, slipping from its warmth offered.  Collecting a blanket from the top of the bed she carried it over to the sofa, draping the proper material over the form huddled there.  The nights could get cold; this one was no exception.

“What am I going to do with you?”  She mused as the light of stars and one irregular moon illuminated her spoil of war with a dim strip of silvery light.


	6. Chapter 6

The great hall in the Moon Palace was buzzing with voices.  Nine people gathered around a large, round table, each speaking in a different language than the next.  If they were debating it would only be considered they were doing so agitatedly; the height and pitch of their voices was more prone to be considered arguing instead.  An equal amount of translators; standing behind their employers to better lean to them or to those they shared a conversation with, were failing miserably to keep track of what was going on.  Far too much was happening at once.

With a resounding crash, Queen Serenity brought her scepter down to the white marble floor in an attempt to gain the attention of the guests she had invited.  “This all leads to nothing as long as we are not able to understand each other!”

The sound was enough for at least one of the guests to regain control of the situation, if not the upper hand itself.  The translator spoke hurriedly in his ear, not enough to cause a mistranslation over what had been said, but with urgency nonetheless.  Dark blue eyes rose to look at the woman who was trying to bring order about, almost narrowing behind the thick, bushy eyebrows.  His jaw clenched, bristling as he spoke out.  “What is there to understand?  The Martian dogs are running rampant; we can all attest to that.”  Behind him, the translator spoke in a clear voice, not quite catching the emotions that colored the King of Uranus’ words.  There really wasn’t a need to do so however; even untranslated the point was working its way across the room.

“I believe what Queen Serenity is implying is that our reliance on translators is going to hamper us.”  Spoke the translator of the Jovian representative to those assembled within the room.  There was almost an order established; loose yes, but it did cause some of the side bickering to stop.  It did nothing for the looks though; those were still freely given.

“What exactly is it that you propose?”  A woman’s voice this time inquired, speaking with the authority of the Queen of Saturn who sat before her.

“Lunarian has long since been used as a trading language between the planets.  Let us speak with that, so that nothing may be lost or misunderstood.”  Queen Serenity answered in return, her gaze passing over the representatives from both free and ravaged planets.  From remaining monarchs to whomever was left to take up the mantle of leadership, her eyes met each and every one.  “It is only by working together, by showing this trust, that we may solve the problem at hand.  Ganymede of Jupiter speaks truthfully; the reliance to translators will slow us greatly.”

Mumbling met her words, shifting eyes and shifting bodies before slowly, without warning, nods followed in the wake of acceptance.

“I believe Lunarian is a simple and unimportant enough language to serve that purpose, but I only agree on it as long as this crisis is going on.” King Uriel of Uranus had to add, earning him a warning look from the Queens of Saturn and Neptune to both of his sides.  A tall man, a thick mop of almost unruly sandy blonde hair made it impossible to tell where his hair ended and his beard began.  Dressed in finery, mostly dark navy blues with yellows, he bore openly the glower that most felt. 

Every set of eyes turned to her, half silently thankful as they would no longer need to hurriedly act as interpreters, where now they could concentrate on the occasional word that their employer did not understand.  The other half were far more reserved; desiring action far more than just words. 

“Now that this is agreed on, I bid the representative of Venus to inform us about the recent events,” Queen Serenity gave word to Adonis, Marquis of Venus and one of the last remaining leaders on his planet, who stood up for his report. 

A young man, it was obvious the Venusian traits had not skipped him even if he was just a Marquis and not of the actual royal family.  In the airy shades of yellow that the planet preferred, his attire was loose, nonrestrictive.  Blonde hair, cut short, completed the look.  “As far as we can tell, the strategy of this invasion shares similarities with the ones that have already taken place on Mercury, Jupiter and Earth. They landed simultaneously with small elite troops near the most important landmarks and facilities. When they have brought them under control or erased them from the maps, they cut off the supply to the capital. They then are united with a larger army consisting of Martian battle troops and Jovian foot soldiers to attack the capital full force, like they already did on Earth. During the battles, over two and a half million Venusians were killed according to conservative estimate, mostly civilians as our planet never maintained a large army. Their main target in this phase is to get hold of the royal families and kill the ruling monarchs.  Any partners, heirs, and other close members of the royal family are brought to Mars to be held captive, as a source of extortion to the remaining population. During the second phase, they install a puppet regime and start to exploit the planet’s resources. On Venus, they started to mine for rare minerals. Not all of the population was forced to work in the mines, they deported almost four and a half million as slaves to Mars, including Princess Minako. We know nothing about her well-being.” Adonis lowered his head and sat down, the screeching of this chair causing a painful sound to everyone’s ears. 

Murmurs followed in the wake of his report, sympathetic condolences for the deceased monarchs, if not for their daughter and heir who was known to be quite beautiful and breathtaking to behold.

“Danae, have you received any messages from Princess Ami that could bring light to this?” Queen Serenity questioned the representative of Mercury. It would have been possible to hear a pin drop in the room, as excited silence filled it immediately. The counselors of the Mercurian Court were the only people with a secret connection to their captured princess, unstable as it was however. 

Danae, a Counselor to the monarchy when it had still existed, cleared her throat to speak, “The last message was received five days ago. Princess Ami wants us to know that she has met Princess Makoto of Jupiter and Princess Minako of Venus. All three were well to be at this time given the circumstances. But it seems all were taken to a slave market to be sold to new owners. Apparently Princess Ami is not working in the Martian palace anymore and has not been able to receive access to communication devices.” The words were almost without emotion, nearly robotically given.  Someone could describe her as scientifically speaking and it wouldn’t be so far from the truth to be unbelievable.

“Has she mentioned anything about the next target of the Martians?” Queen Proserpina of Pluto sounded on edge, perhaps detecting a pattern in the attacks and fearing her planet was next.  An elegant woman, the worry was easy to find in her soft voice.  Pluto was often forgotten about, being so far away from the rest of the system, and perhaps its people knew that.  They all spoke with a soft voice, authoritative yes, but they seemed to enjoy the solitude.

“We have no certain information about this. But judging from the Martians’ actions…” Danae spoke, “While our planet was invaded, they deported our best engineers and astrophysicists in the beginning, maybe to use their knowledge on the following strikes to Jupiter, Earth and Venus. For two months now, they have taken Mercurian geologists and biologists to Mars. So it could be that they are focusing on some inner task on their own planet.” 

King Uriel didn’t sound too convinced, coloring his words with his doubt. “We should not take a rest on that possibility. Maybe they are preparing stronger weapons, biological warfare, techniques to unleash earthquakes…” 

“I don’t wish to sound accusing to the members gathered around this table…” Governor Beryl of Earth took the opportunity to speak. “But I can’t shake off the impression that some planets are actually benefiting from what is going on. Mercurian scientists working for the Martians, giving their knowledge in service to them, Jovian soldiers fighting alongside of them on Earth and Venus. All of the inner planets have been invaded by now, with one remarkable exception right in the middle of it – the Moon. Horrible things have happened on Earth that I surely wish to no one else, but can Queen Serenity explain how the Moon was able to remain unharmed when all of the planets around it have fallen to the Martians?” 

At the Governor’s words, the room filled with angry voices again.  Some agreed with Beryl, demanding to know why the Moon of all places had been spared the war machine of Mars.  Of those present, only Counselor Danae of Mercury and the yet to have spoken Commander Ganymede of the free Jovian forces sided with Queen Serenity, doing their best to hold against the accusations, lest the old mistrust work its way back in full force to stop all discussion again. 

Calmly the Mercurian Counselor spoke, attempting to sooth over the volatile emotions by such actions.  “They forced our scientists by violence to work for them. We suffer from seeing our inventions turned against us and our friends.” 

Ganymede followed in turn, “The Jovians are not collaborating with them out of their own choice. Those who still live on Jupiter have been brought to camps and are being taken as hostages. The Martians harvest our planet and its moons for the majority of all available food. Thousands of species have been exterminated; Jupiter will never be the same again. I can assure you, the free forces of Jupiter are determined to strike back as soon as an opportunity presents itself.”  A large man, he dwarfed even King Uriel without trying.  A scar ran from his dark brown hairline down to his chin; earned while trying to save the Princess of Jupiter unsuccessfully from being taken.

Queen Serenity lowered her head in sadness. “I almost wish the Moon was attacked too, so I would be able to look you all in the eyes. But we all feel strongly with you and will support you in every way possible.”

“It is quite clear why the Moon hasn’t been an object of interest to the Martians so far.” Queen Nereja of Neptune spoke up at last, quieting the quarrel back down.  “It simply has nothing to offer. The Moon has been a trading nation ever since, for they lack own resources. They don’t have metal, rare minerals, much knowledge about sciences, leading technologies or a biological diversity that could provide nutrition for a large population. Its people can’t work hard, are not very strong or clever and have no exceptional beauty. No offense to you and your race, Queen Serenity.” 

The Queen of the Moon nodded to the Queen of Neptune with cheeks red of shame.  “No offense taken.” 

“But yet it is clear that something is going on. All the people gathered on Mars; Venusians, Mercurians, Jovian soldiers and Martian shock troops won't magically be fed or clothed without the efforts of someone else.” King Uriel looked at all in the room as Beryl spoke, pointedly the remaining monarchs felt his gaze. “I am not going to wait until foreign armies appear at my threshold. I say we take the battle to them, instead of doing nothing and seeing this all exacerbate.”  He spoke on the Governor's heels, preventing anyone from getting a word in otherwise.  “The remaining Jovian fighters are strong but not large by numbers," A glance to Commander Ganymede who nodded, “When we combine them with those of Saturn, the Uranian army can crush the Martians on their own planet before they can strike at the rest of us.”

“And what makes you think you'll have any luck at it?” Queen Nereja questioned his plan. “Said army would be forced to move deeply into enemy territories before it could land the first strike. What happens if your reinforcements are being cut off at Jupiter? You're talking about committing forces to a plan that sounds remarkably like suicide.” 

“My court is not going to agree with a call to arms, Uriel.” Queen Ceres of Saturn cut through his boasting.  Pale skin offset by dark hair and eyes, most of those assembled had the decency to shy back in their seats.  The planet had an army yes, but it was like none had ever seen before.  Holding to the old ways of sorcery, their small regiments of fighters were wizards and mages.  Known them to be a studious people, it was to be expected that their Queen cautioned action. “Fast expanding empires have a tendency to implode after a short amount of time. Let us see what happens during the next twenty, thirty years and if the reign of the Martians can prove its stability. Saturn can easily hold out this amount of time, even under a siege. We are protected by forces much stronger than warfare.” 

“I can’t afford to wait twenty or more years!” Beryl nearly shouted. “Hell, my planet does not even have half of a year given the circumstances. The Martians are permanently robbing us for our water reserves with the help of the Mercurians. Our great lakes and freshwater seas have dried out, deserts are spreading and crop failures are increasing. They have driven the mines so deep into the mantle of Earth that volcanic activity is at a high, polluting our air and land along with the toxic waste from the mines. While you all are bickering, my people are dying from starvation or forced labor.  Prince Endymion, who always was able to give us hope to look up to, has been kidnapped. I beg you all…” her eyes shone with tears, “Please send help to our oppressed planet. We can’t wait any longer!”

In the heavy silence which filled the room after she had spoken, Queen Serenity stood up to lay a comforting hand on Beryl’s shoulder. “I may know of a chance to help us all without the need to sacrifice so many lives.” Beryl looked up to meet her gaze at this. “In the archives of the Moon libraries lies the description of a ritual to bind each planet's powers to its heir. I have discussed with Queen Ceres and she agrees it could be carried out. With half of the ruling families dead save for their descendants, it is only fair to enable this power in each first child of the monarchs."

“And what if the monarchs receive twins? Will the powers be parted between the children or both get the same amount? Or when the only child dies and the branch of family tree is extinguished, will the powers vanish?"  King Uriel worried, insinuating the fact that Jovians were known for having large families, when Uranians wouldn’t. “I am not going to accept if anyone receives more powers than my one and only daughter.” 

“What worries me more is if this ritual can be selective” Ganymede added. “If this infuses them all, then the Martian Princess is going to get her own share of powers.”

“...Who has played a leading role in many of these attacks.” Nereja followed with. 

“And was reported to have personally killed our King and taken Princess Minako.” Adonis joined in with his concerns.

“We need to prevent her from gaining far more powers than she already has at her disposal.” Queen Proserpina of Pluto voiced everyone’s thoughts. 

“I believe it’s actually a wise idea.” Danae countered the rest of the room. 

Queen Serenity tried to answer the unvoiced questions presented. “The effect of the spell is irrevocable. Once it’s performed, the power of the planet combines with the genetic information of the royal families. It stays silent there until it is awoken, which is usually caused by the first contact with the respective element. Only one member of the royal family can have active access to the power at a time. When that person dies, the information is activated within the nearest family member, like children or siblings, in case the heir had no descendants. The powers cannot be split or parted.” 

Queen Ceres added further, given that her home was known to be a dark, mystical planet, her opinion was most welcomed. “What convinced us the most to try this is the fact that four heirs of the planets are currently on Mars. The ritual can reach each of them where they are at, without needing them to be here.  It will allow them each to draw upon the element of their planet, and cause mayhem on Mars. The only uncertainty for the effects concerns Prince Endymion. To make sure that every generation carries the power of the planet, it needs to be bound to the x-chromosome. His powers will differ from the Princesses, as only one of his chromosomes can be affected by the ritual. This means also a greater risk for mutations.” 

“But they would still be alone on the enemy’s home planet. In the end, the Martians will defeat them by sheer numbers alone.” The Queen of Pluto interjected.

“The Martians will not want to kill them. As Marquis Adonis has stated; they are needed to remain alive, to add pressure to the people of their planets.  They will not harm this guarantee for it would undermine all of their efforts of those they have captured.” Danae corrected the introjection with the same calm voice that had been present the entire meeting. 

“I understand the concerns bothering all of you, but Ceres and I feel that this is the best way to achieve a balance between the planets.” Queen Serenity admitted. “It takes a lot of willpower to include the Princess of Mars into this. But the ritual can’t be repeated. When she doesn’t receive her powers with the others, she will never get them. Which would weaken Mars permanently and could be the source for further wars in the future. We need all heirs to receive their powers if we truly seek peace and balance. I believe Princess Rei will see reason and come back into our circle as a rehabilitated member of the solar system.” 

“She has proven herself unworthy of that power!  She should never be allowed to get it!”  King Uriel nearly bolted up to his feet, a heavy fist coming down on the table to punctuate his argument.  At once, Adonis joined in as well, the assault on Venus was still too fresh to be forgotten about.  Through the calmer voices of Ceres and Nereja, the room was slowly quieted down after nearly twenty minutes of impassioned pleas and fiery rebuttals.  Even more slowly, they began to agree, each voicing their acceptance until they came upon that of Earth.

“Are you still in your right mind?!”  Beryl couldn’t believe what just happened. “Our enemy is a dangerous, battle-tried army. We are not going to be rescued by some magical-girl-action! We need real troops to drive them out! I can offer you some support of my own people, but alone we are too weak to achieve something.” 

“What support could that be?” Queen Serenity asked. 

“When our planet was invaded, the work in most scientific laboratories came to an abrupt stop. The same happened at CERN. However, not all experiments could be shut down before a large bombardment affected the complex. When our scientists were able to receive entrance again, they found a new sort of element accumulated in one of the particle accelerators. We are running secret experiments with it now. Professor Jadeite, the leader of CERN, believes it can be turned into a weapon to strike at the Martians.” 

“Such research would take years to perfect.”  Slowly Ceres spoke, purple gaze narrowing.  Sciences were not regarded highly as they were to other planets, unless it dealt with the archaic arcane.

“Which is why we are working hard to achieve results. But even if the element can be used in the desired way, it won’t help us to hold our ground to the Martians. Please, are none of you willing to help us?” 

King Uriel nodded firmly. “We are standing at your side, Beryl. My plan is the following; we are going to pursue all three strategies, combining them with each other. I will prepare my army for war and pick up reinforcements from the Jovians as we pass Jupiter. Ceres, any of your battle mages and war wizards would be welcomed, for they have no equal within the system.  In the meantime Serenity and Ceres can perform the ritual and Danae will inform Princess Ami about what happened so they can start to kick the Martians’ ass on their own planet.  When this happens, you will use your weapon to weaken the Martian troops on the Earth. We will support you in the battle and use your planet as a bridgehead in the inner system. It is next to Mars and can be of great use for an invasion to their home planet. They will not be expecting an attack on their own turf, so there would be the element of surprise. As for the Princess of Mars, she is never going to receive any powers.  I will see personally to that.” 

After the meeting was over, Queen Serenity stood at the main tower to see the attendees departing into an unsafe future. Her heart felt heavy. Nothing could conceal the fact that despite all of their newly exchanged vows to help and support each other, the rulers of these planets were only able to agree on the lowest common denominator. 


	7. Chapter 7

Her eyes opened slowly to the light that came through the window. There was a slight tinge of crimson to it where she was far more used to a golden beam, but it didn’t detract from it. This reminded her she hadn’t awoken from a nightmare. The nightmare was very true and sleep just a short relief from it. She was on Mars, far too away from a home that at this point, didn’t exist anymore.

She tried to sit upright to survey the room, but found to her horror that she was unable to move. Right after trying to flex her limbs shot unbelievable pain through her body. Every muscle ached, sore from the sudden rush of use outside of their normal bounds yesterday. It was the worst feeling in the world. She chose to stay motionless for another couple of minutes. Just now she realized the blanket she was wrapped up in addition to her towel. It offered her warmth and a faint scent of incense washing over her body, invading her senses. She drew it deep into her lungs and closed her eyes to dwell on its promise of comfort, trying to remember where she knew it from. After some moments, her eyes shot open. The Martian bitch. It was her scent, she had perceived it in the back of her mind when the kiss happened. Despite of the pain she was into, she had to sit up for a survey of her surroundings.

Maybe sleeping on a leather couch wasn’t her wisest choice ever, she realized as her cheek peeled off the material of it. The pillow she had grabbed and laid claim to had long since fallen to the floor. Supporting herself on one arm, she found the large bed as abandoned as the rest of the room seemed to be. The Martian bitch wasn’t present, a sigh of relief left her chest as she sank back against the armrest. “Thank the Gods…”

She could still feel her lips tingling from that damn kiss, as if it had infused her with a poison slowly corrupting every part of her body. The thought alone was enough for her to shudder. Be it from disgust or the memory of lips pressing to her own she couldn’t rightly define. And these haunting words. Lies and empty promises, she was certain of, but they still repeated themselves over and over in her mind.

_I will fulfill your every desire…_ What desires did she have left, anyway? She had made acquaintance with physical love before, the rush of adrenaline and confusion that went with it when you explored a body from the opposite sex. Her parents had been away for a few days on a political business and she was left at home to enjoy herself. She remembered the lecture they had given her at their return far clearer than the events of the evening. Naturally she had thrown a large party in the palace, with live music and a lot of alcohol flowing. Sometime during the party, she and a young nobleman had stolen away to her private rooms.

It had been a nice experience, really. She still couldn’t recall his name, but she could tell he had actually cared for her by the soft shyness of his touches. She was even – almost – certain that she had experienced an orgasm that night. But in the end she couldn’t understand how sex was able to make people lose their mind and turn one’s life upside down like it did in the great love stories. In the end, it was a sticky, sweaty, gross activity, where other people saw parts you would rather hide. Both whispered things forgotten in the morning to add importance to the moment and at the peak of passion, he pulled a silly face that made her laugh. So what could the Martian Princess offer her? What were the sweet, gentle or dark desires she talked about? In the end, she wasn’t able to invent the mechanics of sex anew.

Pulling the blood stained length of red cloth from her hair, she held it close to her nose. This was the scent of home. This was who she truly was and what she would never allow herself to forget, the injustice be done to her. Pushing the blanket away, she grabbed the towel close around her body and let herself roll to the floor where she stretched out to align the vertebrae of her painfully twisted spine. Reaching for the pillow, she adjusted it under her head and dozed off to slumber again.

* * *

Rei was careful to open the door without a sound as she reentered the room, balancing a covered tray on one hand. A faint smile touched her lips as she found the Venusian Princess sleeping on the floor, having refused to take the blanket with her. Her stubbornness nearly matched her own. She walked over to her desk and put the tray on it, her white and red robes ruffling as she moved.

When she was done, she came back and laid down beside the blonde, pushing a loose strand of hair out of her face. “Minako…” she whispered softly. “Minako, it’s time to wake up…” Cerulean eyes opened slowly. “You have a seam line imprinted on your cheek,” Rei added with a smirk on her face.

A jolt ran through her body like electricity, leaving her wide awake. That damn Martian was once more in her line of vision. Her hand shot up to connect with the other’s cheek but again it was caught.

She left a kiss on her knuckles. “That isn't reason to get violent at me, Mina.”

What the … her gaze widened considerably before she instantly adopted a scowl, yanking her hand back. Stubbornly she pushed up to sit, irritably drawing the towel around her in the off chance it came loose in the little bit of additional sleep she had claimed. She was far too angry to acknowledge that her body still ached. “How do you know my name?”

The damn Martian just smirked at her further, rising to her feet while her hands smoothed out the over sized white jacket with long sleeves she wore and red trousers wide as a skirt. "I spent a little time on research. It wasn’t that hard to find out.”

“I doubt you’d open a book to look it up. Who told you?” There was a small chance she might hear some news about the other Venusian slaves and their well-being. But the Martian didn’t do her the favor.

“Be careful whom you challenge about being more educated, Mina, you might not like the outcome. Come, I've brought you breakfast.” With that she turned, taking her seat at the desk.

For a few moments more she sat on the floor, doing nothing more than scowling. It was her name yes, that wasn't the issue. Well no, that was entirely the issue. That Martian bitch was being far too familiar with her, acting like she was her _friend_ , if not more. Like she knew her, like she had a right to know her. After all she had taken from her, she had the audacity to act that way. Her eyes darted around the room; had there been something worthwhile at hand other than the pillow or the discarded blanket, she would have attacked the Martian with it.

Instead, her body chose that moment to remind her that the dinner from last night wasn’t enough to make up for the energy lost during her work at the stables. She ignored the self-satisfying look on the raven haired woman, rising somehow to her feet with enough determination to see it through. With as much pride as she could muster, given how sore she felt, she yanked the other chair out opposite of the Martian and sat, treating that she was dressed in the finest things she ever owned instead of just a towel.

Lifting the cover, the papery scent of porridge wafted up in the steam. A few slices of fruit had been added, but otherwise the meal was consistent of what the poor population of Mars would eat. Adding a spoon, Rei set the bowl down before her slave, sitting back in her own chair to just watch.

The blonde jabbed at the food almost with disinterest despite her obvious hunger. She ate though, and when the first spoon touched her tongue, her face fell further as she realized the meal had been cooked with water instead of milk, the papery taste harmonizing perfectly with its scent. Half a spoonful she swallowed here and there, mostly picking out the fruit before she sighed, putting the bowl down.

“What's wrong?” Genuine curiosity prompted her inquiry.

After a few moments the blonde finally spoke, her voice low and soft. “I miss … the food of my home planet. It was rich and sweet, the taste so delicious you couldn’t resist. For breakfast, we usually ate fragrant bread rolls made of airy dough, with a lot of butter and honey on it. And we had at least twenty different sorts of jelly on the table. It was sticky, but so very good.” Absently she picked up the spoon again, eating halfheartedly, refusing to meet her gaze.

She considered for a few moments before going to a cabinet and taking a small jar out, setting it right before the blonde. “We apply honey on wounds for its antiseptic property. It’s an expensive substance we needed to import. Bees can’t survive on Mars because it doesn’t have enough blooming flowers. But if you want to eat it, you can have some.”

She watched as the blonde’s eyes seemed to light up for a moment, but her hand hesitated while reaching out for the jar, probably frozen during some inner debate she fought with herself. But in the end her hunger won, eagerly adding a large dollop of honey to the porridge before she stirred it, eating with new found enthusiasm. How exactly the other could eat that she wasn't sure; it would be far too sweet for her tastes.

Noticing that the Martian hadn’t bought a bowl for herself, she pointed the spoon at her. “I haven't seen you eat. Are you a kind of vampire or something, feeding on blood?”

The clear question in the blonde's voice returned her gaze back to focus, meeting cerulean with crimson. Quirked her eyebrow rose, almost impressed that she didn't flinch away. Most wouldn't meet her gaze, even fewer would hold it. “Why, I wasn’t the one to swallow blood yesterday. So this leaves me wondering who exactly is the vampire here.”

The blonde’s face flushed a pretty shade of pink and she avoided her gaze, instead concentrating on the next spoon of porridge.

“I had the same breakfast as you at the rise of dawn when I got up to perform my duties at the temple. However, we need some rules if we are going to share this room together.” She stated and guided the Venusian’s attention back on her. “I don’t want you to leave my quarters without my permission.”

Minako, _what a wonderful name!,_ she rejoiced inwardly, considered the rule for a moment. “Agreed. Gives me plenty opportunities to kill you.”

An amused laughter built in the pit of her diaphragm, but it had transformed to a snort when it spilled from her lips. “And to prevent you from getting bored, you are going to serve me in household matters, such as cleaning the windows, wiping away dust, polishing the floor, caring for my clothes and so on.”

The blonde crinkled her nose. “Don’t you have some form of entertainment here to spend my time with?”

Rei leaned forward with interest. “And what kind of activity would qualify as entertainment for you?”

She shrugged her shoulders. “On Venus, we had live action shows with a mixture of singing, dancing and acting…”

The Martian considered this for a moment, finally a sly grin spread on her lips. “I believe Mars can offer you something alike. It surely includes dancing and acting, although I don’t know if the voices uttered hold much singing qualities. You can watch from my balcony. But only if you are nice and handle the household.”

This made the blonde’s expression grew stern again. She looked around the room, a really large one. On the other hand Rei hadn’t filled it with many belongings. Cleaning would eventually be fast done and surely a lot easier than in the stables. And she needed to kill time anyway in the hours she would be here alone. “Agreed,” she finally uttered.

The grin on Rei’s face grew wider. “And for the time being, the last thing, you are going to dress like I want you to.”

Minako rolled her eyes. What was about to come now? She watched as the Martian stood up and pulled a large flat package out from under her bed. Rei handed it over to her and waited eagerly for her to lift the lid. The contents made her take a sharp intake of breath and caused her eyebrows to rise high. The package held a tight bodice with a corsage to be tied around her ribs. However right under the breasts was where the corsage would end. To cover the upper half of her torso, it included a small lace blouse that would go up to her shoulders. The outfit was completed with a much too short pleated skirt. It looked like a thing between a maid’s uniform and a costume for sexual role-play. But the worst was the non-existent colors, a boring light beige that didn’t contrast much with the slightly darker shade of the skirt. Rei gave her another, smaller package which contained some shoes, she guessed. She didn’t bother to actually open it.

“What do you say?” By now she just wanted to wipe that damn smirk off the Martian's face. But in the end walking around in a towel all day wouldn’t do any better.

She collected both packages and rose off the chair towards the bathroom, nose held high to protect what was left of her dignity.

“You can put it on right here, if you want to.” The bitch chirped behind her.

She turned shortly to shoot her a glare. “In your dreams.” With this she slammed the door shut behind her.  
When she reappeared some time later, she was fully dressed up and thankful the corsage could be tied from the front, otherwise she would have needed to ask the Martian bitch to lend her a hand. She smiled sourly as she looked down on herself. The skirt was indeed much too short to could be considered as modest, but in combination with the strappy heels it did wonders to her legs. Not that she was going to be thankful for it. “You know, someday I will make you wear the exact same thing. Maybe in addition with a large bow in front of your chest to give you a cuter expression.”

* * *

Rei’s gaze poured over her slave. It was difficult to tell just where it started, so intense as it was. The amount of effort on her behalf to remain still, to not rush right away and pin her to the wall, or perhaps sweep the contents off the desk to take her, was immeasurable. It was enough for the comment to go almost unanswered, far too engrossed in the nature of her shapely legs before her eyes rose. “In my dreams…” she repeated, barely audible.

She wished to be able to spend the entire day just standing here looking at the blonde, but there were tasks she had to accomplish. Still she lingered a moment longer, ravenously devouring the other with her eyes alone before starting to undress herself. Carefully her hands went to the garments, pulling the pristine white jacket-like top off to leave it on the bed. With satisfaction she noticed that the blonde’s eyes stayed glued to her, raking over the simple white cotton top she wore underneath. When their eyes met, she blushed profusely, quickly turning her attention elsewhere.

The effect had been achieved however, she thought with a smirk. The wide, red pants came off next, draped next to the robe and folding both items accurately before she turned to walk unashamed in her underwear to the wardrobe. “I want them clean by midday,” she directed while pulling out leather garments to prevent the armor she would put on from rubbing on bare skin. She carried them over to a second wardrobe, opening it to reveal her armor stand. Turning she looked back to the blonde to find her gaze transfixed on her body once more.

“Why … why do you wear ceremonial robes anyway...?” It was the first thing that came to her mind other than commenting on the body of Rei. She scowled, Gods now she was thinking of her by her name, not what she was. She was a bitch. A Martian. She didn't deserve to even have the luxury of a name, not after what she did. The sudden burst of anger cleared or fogged her mind for a few seconds, but then she became aware that the peaks of Rei’s breasts were quite imaginable under the material of her top. May the Gods help her! Her resolve crumbled, unable to look away, her eyes flicked up, succumbing to the tension that seemed to compound within herself at each passing moment.

“Oh really? Is this something your vaunted education didn't teach you or wasn’t included in your books?” Bemused she dressed slowly, hardly in a rush. A pair of soft weaved pants came first. Molded to her skin it did everything for showing off every curve of her legs, toned by battle. A long sleeved shirt she pulled over her head, equally as tight but constructed to let her body breathe. Lips quirked to a smirk as the blonde's eyes followed her every move, giving a long stretch of her arms to set the material in place.

“Martian society can be separated into three castes. Most citizens from the outside worlds know about the soldiers, but there is an even larger number of workers who provide them with food, weapons, equipment and everything they need to focus on warfare alone. And then there is a priest caste to provide spiritual guidance. As royalty of Mars, I am not only the leader of the armies, I am also of the rank of a high priestess. Apparently, they didn't teach you that part.” Pulling on a pair of socks, she walked back to the awaiting armor stand, pulling on each piece with practiced ease. Greaves she donned first, the black metal expertly made to form around her thighs. “However, it is not possible for anyone to change its caste. You are born into it and serve it until death.”

Her breastplate came next, buckles and straps placed to allow her to do so without the assistance of another. “As high priestess, it is my task to lead meditation and prayers every morning in the Temple of the Flames.” Secured to her backplate, pauldrons came next to protect her shoulders, followed by bracers for her forearms. The suit was so well constructed she did not need mail to offer protection to her joints. A gorget went about her neck, collecting her hair brush to draw through her thick black hair.

She drew on her shoes last. To just above her ankles they went, strong leather to protect her feet, it was the rest of the armor that protected her calves. Taking seat in an armchair she tied each before leaning back to look up at her expectantly. “My shoes.”

“What about them?”

“They're not going to shine themselves.” She watched as the blonde fumed at her, releasing a sigh and a mutter under her breath. All but stalking to the armor stand in the wardrobe, she nearly ripped the hanging cloth and brush meant for her shoes from it, looking at her with a hard glare.

Sinking down she opted to kneel, instead of outright sitting on the floor. There was no way the skirt would allow for that anyway, and while her outfit came with panties, she wasn’t eager to draw more of the Martian's attention to herself. Under her breath she muttered in her native Venusian about just where the Martian could put her shoes, one hand grasping a foot at the heel, the other bringing the brush up to clean it of coarse dirt. A rather nonsensical task because they were already basically clean. She opened a small can of polish, rubbing the cloth into it and began to apply it at the backside, slowly working her way to the front. When she reached the eyelets of the tying, she folded the cloth anew to reach the small spaces in between. Like in the stables before, the simple repetitive movements served to clean her mind from all thoughts and focus on what she did alone. And she found an easy way of satisfaction with her efforts. The thick leather soaked up the polish and became shiny and smooth, emitting an incredibly attractive scent.

When she reached for the other shoe to give it the same treatment, Rei let the finished one rest on her thigh. “See how easy it is for me to make you kneel down before me? You better not forget about this.” The tip of her foot began to graze the outside of the blonde's thigh, rising up her arm to brush against her jawline and lift her chin to look in the Martian’s eyes.

“For as obsessed with sexuality as you are, it’s a surprise no one has mistaken you for a Venusian yet.” Her head move the side, eyeing the foot with disapproval.

She snorted contemptuously, “I bet you had more lovers in bed than me.” The blonde just quirked an eyebrow to her but said nothing and continued with her task. It began to nag at the back of her mind. How many lovers did the Venusian Princess have really so far? The chances that she had been able to capture her untouched were slim and it didn’t bother her much if she had had a few experiences in the past. But if it had been more, maybe a dozen or so, she couldn’t shake off the feeling that her prize was damaged goods. Then she would have to overcome a disgust to touch her and need to spend all the more energy to make her forget about all the stupid hands that had ever laid claim on her. Finally, she couldn’t hold back from voicing the question left hanging in the air. “How many was it?”

The blonde stopped in her work to look up at her. “Now you are positively dying to know, aren’t you?”

Her fingers clawed into the armrests of the chair as she leaned forward in anticipation. “Tell me…”

A devious smile spread upon her lips. “See how easy it is for me to make you hang on my lips? You better not forget about this.” She retorted, using the same words uttered to her in response. By the way the raven haired beauty’s brow twitched, she could tell she must be about to explode in anger or frustration. Holding up an index finger, she gently laid it on her lips to stop her from screaming in rage. “One. I have had exactly one lover so far. It was a really nice and fulfilling night I shared with him, but it didn’t turn my life upside down to make me a slave to lust and desire. So I’m not going to be impressed by whatever trick you try to pull on me.”

An exhale seemed to leave the Martian from the very depths of her soul. Her eyes, for a moment fixed on that finger before it came too close to focus in it, searched the hold of cerulean blue again. “If this is what you think about it, he didn’t give you what you deserve.” With this, she rose up from her chair, collecting her sword belt from the wardrobe and strode out if the room, not turning to look back at her slave remaining stunned on the floor.

Minako needed a few moments until the rate of her heartbeat had returned to normal. _How could she dare!_ , her mind screamed as she send the brush and cloth she had used for cleaning flying across the room. Pushing up to her feet, she began pacing the room in agitation. Everything unnerved her, the Martian bitch and her self-confident behavior, the clothes she had given her, this room that shouted modesty right in her face. She walked a wide circle and stretched her arm out, cleaning two shelves of the thoughtful displayed articles there, including a human eye.

She just realized what the object was as it bounced on the ground like a ball. _Gods, where did that came from?_ Almost jumping back she decided not to think further about it. When reaching the curtains of one window, she gave it a strong pull that send it together with its rod to the ground. Picking up an ink pot from the desk, she finally came to a stop before the bed where Rei had left her Priestess robes. Uncorking the pot, she generously poured its contents all over the items, staining them beyond belief. When it was empty, she smashed the glass against a wall, leaving the imprint of a firework.


End file.
